Jumat, 08 Agustus 2014

Short Story

 Ink in Book of my life.

have more and more ink is etched in my sheet. myself sometimes just do not understand where the ink comes. little by little when I tried to recall the past. difficult, so difficult, because there are a lot of black ink that is written on each sheet even spilled my life. but now I realize there is a new burst of color in between the sheets. it's love. love does not just have one color, but millions of colors, which is ... whether any that name ?? I will not know. but that I knew at the time, the sweetness of love can not eliminate all the other flavors in my heart. I was initially denied, all these feelings only temporarily, the feelings that arise because of the different figure appeared in my life .. I will always elude the fact that I had been incised love in someone else's book.
until one day, tragedy came, like a storm, which separates any sheets that have been painted a beautiful story with a variety of inks. it tore each page into pieces that are ready in the wind. even things that separate the sheets of my life and his life.
when my book was turned into a gray, more and more faded. even begin to fill with ink splash spill even the darkest black. this may not be cleaned again. my book is closed, do not let anyone read it and add a story in it. I can only keep my story with him. when there are going to write, I will immediately remove it, nothing to write again, I will close with my black ink. book it now, black, dark and no content of anything else, even my story can not be read anymore. until one day, I will see it has found another book, I think he would write in the book, but I do not know. I'm angry, I'm jealous, I'm sad, there should be no removing him my story. but he was guarded by a very strong storm, which we could not opponents. I will let go, maybe my book and the book can not be used in one envelope, but must be separated into different sheets. I realized that I have been blackened this could not touch it. it just becomes gray, whereas I've blackened.
I have to let go to follow the direction of the storm lead him. maybe he will find a better book than me, to be able to carve ink love and write a beautiful story. and I had to let someone carrying white ink to clean up my yard, so I can re-write and re-read the stories of my beautiful decoration  in my story for the next ..


with love .. :)

for u :)